


The Adventures of an Asexual Office Worker

by MyOwnCharacterInEverything



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8570731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnCharacterInEverything/pseuds/MyOwnCharacterInEverything
Summary: In which Kunimi does not get paid nearly enough for this shit.AKA: the infamous 90s diet coke AU started by pussycat-scribbles on tumblr





	1. Part I: Oikawa & Yahaba

**Author's Note:**

> Really, all I did was read through all the ideas under the 90s Diet Coke AU tag and added an exasperated Kunimi who’s just done with everything.
> 
> I just hope I did it justice.

_ I still don’t get it _ .

Now, all his life, Kunimi Akira had always been told that he was a brilliant young man. Top of his class, obnoxiously high grades, quick learner, observant…you know the kind of guy. So of course he figured out how everything worked on first day at this job. “Everything” being the complicated network of weird emotion that supercharges his workplace at 11:30 everyday. Well, technically, it hung in the air throughout the whole day, but it was especially bad at 11:30.

All because of those damn construction workers that worked outside the base of the office building. And because everyone in the workplace was apparently a thirsty gay hoe. Or, at the very  least , bi.

_ These damn horny people _ .

Personally, Kunimi didn’t get it. And maybe he shouldn’t have said so. Because everyday since that first day, his supervisor—his  _ supervisor _ , mind you—Oikawa Tooru dragged him to the window during the 11:30 lunch break and pointed at the construction site thirteen floors below them. Not that Oikawa-san actually paid much attention to Kunimi. Oikawa-san was too busy phoning Sugawara Koushi, his old college roommate and a man who just so happened to be working in the building across the way.

“Kou-chan, are you seeing this?!” Oikawa-san hissed.

“ _ Hell  **yes** , I’m seeing this! Look at those  _ **_thighs_**!” came the hysterical reply. So loud that Kunimi could  _ hear him _ through the corded landline that Oikawa-san was holding. (It also didn’t help that Kunimi had weirdly good hearing.)

A confused look flickered across Oikawa-san’s face. “Thighs? What about the arms? THE  _ ARMS _ , KOU-CHAN!”

A beat of sweet blessed silence. But alas, it was only a beat.

“... _ wait _ ,” Sugawara-san said suddenly. “ _ Which one are you talking about? _ ”

“The one in the backwards red baseball cap and pierced nipples,” Oikawa-san’s voice dropped to a strangled whisper. But no less desperate. “ _ Pierced nipples _ , Kou-chan.”

“... _ oh. Oh! Yeah, you can have him. I didn’t even didn’t even notice him, honestly. _ ”

There was no way that Oikawa-san’s indignant squawk was human. “Then who were  _ you _ talking about?! There can’t be anyone better than—”

“ _ Maybe not for  **you** , Tooru-kun _ ,” came the smooth reply. “ _ But that  _ **_man_ ** _ with the  _ shorts  _ and the  _ **_tool-belt_ ** _ and  _ **_those THIGHS_**!”

This statement promptly followed by a whole slew of obscene noises. Kunimi nearly choked on his sandwich. Across the way, he could see Sugawara-san, also on the phone, pounding his fists against the window with every other word.

Apparently, Oikawa-san had finally torn his eyes away from—for lack of a better term, “his”—construction worker, just long enough to take a look at—again, for lack of a better term, “Sugawara-san’s”—construction worker.

“Not bad, Kou-chan,” Oikawa-san said. “Not bad at all.”

Just then, someone tapped Kunimi on the shoulder.

“Kunimi-kun, could you take this across the way to Sugawara-san?” Yahaba-san asked, handing him a stack of that reports.

“Shigeru-kun!” Oikawa-san exclaimed, loud enough for Sugawara-san to hear through the phone. “Come appreciate beauty with us!”

Now, Yahaba-san admired Oikawa-san as a senpai, so of course he didn’t protest.

That is, until he saw someone down in the construction site below.

“What’s  _ he _ doing here?” he grumbled. His nose wrinkled in disgust, and he glared at someone climbing out of a food delivery truck. The newcomer had cropped blonde hair, a disgruntled expression, and enough lunch and diet coke for the whole crew.

“ _ Obviously delivering food, Yahaba-kun _ .” Why was Sugawara-san able to hear them? (Nishinoya-san would later tell him that “Sugamama knows  _ all _ .) “ _ Why? Do you  _ **_know_ ** _ him _ ?” Across the way, Sugawara-san was waggling his eyebrows.

Yahaba-san scoffed and sipped from his mug, but it was Oikawa-san who answered. “Well, Mad Dog-chan—”

“ _ Mad Dog-chan? Your nicknames get weirder and worse everyday, Tooru-kun _ .”

“His name is  _ Kyō _ tani  _ Ken _ taro.  _ Kyōken _ .  _ Mad Dog _ . See, Kou-chan? I’m so creative!” Oikawa-san beamed like a proud five-year-old. Across the way, Kunimi could see Sugawara-san trying to hold in his laughter.

“Even though the kanji is completely different,” Yahaba-san grumbled into his mug.

“Well anyway,” Oikawa-san continued. “Shigeru-kun here carries a grudge against Mad Dog-chan because in high school, we played against his team, and Mad Dog-chan slammed a volleyball into Shigeru-kun’s face.”

Yahaba-san spluttered indignantly. “I got a  _ concussion _ ! I was  _ unconscious _ and had to  _ go to the hospital _ . I couldn’t go to practice for  _ weeks _ !”

“Yes, well,” Oikawa-san smirked. “As I recall, the next time we played his team, you grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against a wall—”

Then—because apparently such a thing was possible—Yahaba-san’s scowl deepened. “ _ Now _ what’s he doing?” he interrupted.

All the attention turned back to the construction site, where this “Mad Dog-chan” was arm-wrestling “Oikawa-san’s” construction worker. And the conversation turned back to—because it was just Kunimi’s luck—muscles and sweat.

“ _ Look _ at him, Kou-chan,” Oikawa-san squealed. “His arm muscles are so… _ so…ripply _ .”

Now, this “Mad Dog-chan” was trying really hard, but though he was losing, at least he was losing slowly. That is, until—by some sick, perverted twist of fate/karma/ _ whatever _ —he looked up at the office window and—because it just  _ figured _ —locked eyes with Yahaba-san.

Kyoutani-san—Ah yes!  _ That’s _ what his name was—lost. Hard. And quickly.

Oikawa-san’s knees buckled. “My heavenly slice of  _ man-meat _ ,” he whispered into the phone as he slid down to the floor against the window. “So  _ strong… _ ” And Kunimi could hear Sugawara-san laughing through the landline.

When Yahaba-san made no move to help him—in fact, he hadn’t moved at  _ all _ —Kunimi decided that it was time for him to hightail it out of Seijoh Tower and haul himself over the Karasuno counterpart across the way, hoping and praying that—save for Sugawara-san—the situation was better over there.

Oh, how horribly,  _ horribly _ wrong he was.

_ He ought to get paid more for this shit _ .


	2. Part II: Karasuno (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. Suga and the Karasuno second-years.
> 
> I wish I had gotten to the first years, but if I had kept writing, I likely never would have stopped. :P

“Ah, Kunimi-kun!” Sugawara-san called. “You can leave the reports on my desk.” Then Sugawara-san turned back to the window, most likely to continue ogling “those delicious voluptuous thighs.” Sugawara-san’s words, not Kunimi’s.

Kunimi did as Sugawara-san asked, hoping to be quick enough to avoid another supervisor dragging him to the window. But before he could escape with his sanity, a short man barrelled into the room, almost running Kunimi over.

“Suga-san! Suga-san!” Nishinoya-san exclaimed. He was holding—

—an opened can of Diet Coke?

“What is it, Noya?” Sugawara-san asked patiently. Unlike Oikawa-san, he never got annoyed when someone called his attention away from “the view.”

(In reality, though, the only people who ever tried to pry Oikawa-san from the window—and heaven _forbid_ make him do his _damn job_ —were Matsukawa-senpai and Hanamaki-senpai. Oikawa-san _hated_ “Mattsun” and “Makki.” If only because they had blackmail.)

Another figure barrelled into the office.

“Noya…” Ennoshita-san growled. Now, usually, Ennoshita-san was rather calm and level-headed. So not only was it weird to see him genuinely angry, it was also slightly terrifying.

Then again, Ennoshita-san had legitimate reasons for being upset. His shirt was soaked, his tie was stained brown, and Kunimi quickly pieced together what happened. Nishinoya-san must have shaken the Diet Coke can and given it to Ennoshita-san as a practical joke. The theory was pretty much confirmed by Narita-san and Kinoshita-san snickering in the doorway.

Clearly, Nishinoya-san hadn’t been expecting Ennoshita-san to arrived so quickly. Kunimi saw the fear in Nishinoya-san’s eyes when Sugawara-san’s posture straightened into his infamous “Sugamama-bear” mode. It was also apparent in the way Narita-san and Kinoshita-san quickly stopped laughing and quietly tried to sneak away before they got in trouble too.

“Oh Ennoshita,” Sugawara-san cooed. He gestured toward the tissue box on his desk. “Go to the small one-person bathroom outside my office and rinse off your face.”

Ennoshita-san took a deep breath, picked up the tissues, and left to the bathroom.

“Narita? Kinoshita?” Sugawara-san called. Narita-san and Kinoshita-san stiffened, glancing over their shoulders at Sugawara-san with an audible gulp.

“Yes, Suga-san?” they squeaked.

“Could you go get Ennoshita some dry clothing?” He had an eerily calm smile on his face. “It’s the least you could do with all the trouble you’ve caused.”

“Yes Suga-san!” they yelped. And they barrelled away from the door, almost as quickly as Nishinoya-san had when he came in.

Now, Narita-san and Kinoshita-san had every reason to be scared. It was before Kunimi’s time, but he had heard that the last time Sugawara-san caught people were causing trouble, those troublemakers all had to take turns carrying Sugawara-san around the office. Each person carried for a whole day, and the whole affair lasted for at least a week. Not exactly the most humiliating thing in the world, but the carrier also paid for lunch, paid for dinner, and carried Sugawara-san to any other errands he just so _happened_ to need to run that week. He was carried to coffee shops, laundromats, florists… They even carried him to all his business meetings, and by the time the whole thing was over, everyone was tired, sore, and a little scared of Sugawara-san.

Sugawara-san turned to Nishinoya-san, whose breath audibly hitched as he took a step back. Sugawara-san rolled his eyes.

“Noya, I’m not going to kill you,” he sighed. “In fact, I’m willing to let it go this _one time_ if you can tell me this one _little_ thing… “

Nishinoya-san gulped. “W-what is it?! Anything!”

Sugawara-san smiled—a surprisingly genuine one this time. “What’s the name of the construction worker wearing the toolbelt?”

Nishinoya-san blinked. Once. Twice. Clearly, he had not been expecting that. But when he opened his mouth to respond, Sugawara-san cut him off.

“And don’t say that you don’t know. I know for a fact that he’s friends with that new boy toy of yours!”

Nishinoya-san choked. “He’s not my—I don’t have a—”

“Yes you do,” Sugawara-san interrupted patiently. “You were very happy to get his number yesterday, as I recall.” Sugawara-san picked up a pen from his desk and began twirling it in one hand while his other arm was crossed over his chest. “So, how is your boy toy?”

If Kunimi didn't know any better, he would swear that Nishinoya-san was a little pink. “He—he has a name, you know,” he muttered with the last few vestiges of bravado. “And Asahi-san is fine. Very… _very_ fine…”

 _Oh dear sweet plant life._ Things were _not_ better in Karasuno. Not at _all_.

“And for the record, Asahi-san is _not_ just a boy toy,” Nishinoya-san’s voice was firmer now. “He's my _boyfriend_.” And—call all the newspapers—did Nishinoya-san look _defensive_?

Sugawara-san looked as mildly surprised as Kunimi felt. And here's where Kunimi felt something curling in the pit of his stomach. An old familiar feeling, really. See, Kunimi had always been jealous of all the relationships he’d seen throughout the years. Of girlfriends, boyfriends, datemates. Of all the kissing and cuddling and sleeping over… They were all things he could never hope to have. It wasn’t a matter of low self-esteem or something. It was the fact that every relationship, from high school sweethearts to college flings, from on screen romance to every pop song ever, no matter how nice the person was, they all expected the same thing in the end.

 _Sex_.

And Kunimi… Kunimi, for the life of him, just couldn’t get _into_ that part. And he knew that it was okay to be asexual: that he wasn’t broken or that something was wrong with him. But he just couldn’t relate when people came to him in frustration. One girl in high school said she stayed with her boyfriend for the sex even though it wasn’t that great. Another guy in high school thought it was a shame that it was a shame that someone so pretty was so bad in bed. Hell, even _Kindaichi_ , who Kunimi knew since _elementary school_ , had admitted that not getting laid was grating away at him a little.

And Kunimi couldn’t comprehend it whatsoever. Like, if the person you’re dating was really bad at sex, you could just…not do it? Like, living without sex really wasn’t that hard? And there was no way that sex could live up to its own hype, right? Because if you really thought about it, sex, when not done with reproductive intentions, nothing more than a social construct—

“Sawamura Daichi,” Nishinoya-san said suddenly, and Kunimi shook his head to clear it of his own self-pity. “His name is Sawamura Daichi, and he’s best friends with Asahi-san.”

Sugawara-san nodded, clearly relieved at that last part. “Thank you, Noya. I _was_ wondering why they were always talking to each other… But I’m also curious about something else.”

Nishinoya-san stiffened. “Oh?”

Sugawara-san put his pen down, placing both palms on his desk and leaning in Nishinoya-san’s direction. “Why did you plan for Ennoshita to get covered in soda and follow you here? I mean, yes, you’re pretty daring, but you risked not only Ennoshita’s rage, but mine too. That’s pretty reckless, even for you.”

Nishinoya-san was surprised. “Oh, that’s it? That one’s easy. See, Ryuu—” He pointed to one of the construction workers. “—my best friend from high school—is also down there, and he got annoyed with hearing all his co-workers talk about the cute people up in the offices—”

Sugawara-san seemed slightly alarmed that the construction workers had noticed them.

Kunimi internally rolled his eyes because— _hello?_ —his co-workers weren’t exactly subtle.

“—and so he said to me, ‘There isn’t even anyone cute up there! After all, _no one_ could possibly compare to Kiyoko-san!’ And so, I decided that I would prove him wrong.”

Sugawara-san raised an intrigued eyebrow. “But why Ennoshita?”

But before Nishinoya-san could answer, the door flung open, and out stepped Ennoshita-san. He had rinsed out his hair; that much was clear from the water droplets running down his face. He was holding his dress shirt now, which was now dripping with water from where he was trying to rinse out the stain. His undershirt was pretty soaked too, and since the undershirt he was wearing was white… Well.

Sugawara-san blinked for about two seconds, and then he gave a smile that was…a little _too_ helpful. “Here, Ennoshita. Why don’t you wring that shirt out over by the window?”

Ennoshita-san, too disgruntled to argue, did as Sugawara-san suggested, all while missing the look that Sugawara-san gave Nishinoya-san: a look that clearly said _this conversation isn’t over_. Ennoshita-san opened the window and rung the shirt out, leaving the water to drip down onto the window below them. A window that Kunimi knew just so happened to be for the office that contained the desks of Kageyama and Tsukishima…

Either way, Ennoshita-san was too preoccupied with shaking out his shirt next to the window. He took a towel—where did Sugawara-san get a towel?!—and bent over, rear facing the window, to ruffle it over his hair, and when his head reemerged… Well, frankly, it looked like sex hair.

And staring with wide eyes from all the way down in the construction site, thirteen floors below, a shirtless man with a shaved head dropped his tape measure and his jaw.

At this point, Kunimi barely kept himself from face-palming.

_Goddammit, Karasuno.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so this chapter ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would, not to mention being a lot less funny...
> 
> But I hope you liked it! Because I have no clue when I'm going to update again...
> 
> (Between you and me though, whoever said college is the best four years of your life clearly partied all the time and never did their homework.)


End file.
